Take a Closer Look
by Mysticsecret
Summary: I have a dirty little secret. I think I'm in love. AUinvented character. first person.


Disclaimer: Cowboy Bebop…not mine.

Look. Just like the rest of these guys, I have nowhere to go. There's no place, no one, and nothing meant for me in this universe. My policy on faith, you ask? Faith is the name of a milky-eyed, old man in a moth-eaten suit on a respirator. Hanging by a snag. I gave up on hoping a long time ago. The only thing I hope for now is that I wake up the next day with my head attached and my legs closed. A humbling life if I do say so myself.

My first encounter on the Bebop was in New York City in America, on the lovely Earth—a charming little city on a polluted little planet. Then again, what planet isn't polluted these days? Anyways, I was living on the streets, and to make the sob story short: My mom abandoned me for a better life with a man in a suit. I was probably 15 at the time. I'd say I've done a pretty good job of fending for myself for the past four years. I can't say that I'm proud of myself, but hey, I'm still alive and sane. Gotta be thankful for that. So, on the day of the Bebop, I was doing my daily morning routine (finding a discarded newspaper) when I hear these gunshots. Suddenly a large man in a red cap began pushing his way through the crowd, continuously looking over his shoulder. When he reached me, he quickly looked me over and yanked me towards him by my arm and began running, with me stumbling along side of him. Needless to say, I was terrified. He took me down an alleyway, kicked open a backdoor, and dragged me up several flights of stairs. When I finally slipped out of shock I began kicking him and screaming for help. "Quiet, you little cunt!" he growled and smacked me in the face with his gun. We reached the top and he flung open the door to an empty room with lots of windows. Just then the door on the other side flung open. A bald man in a blue jump suit was pointing a gun straight at my kidnapper—and he likewise.

"Let the girl go, and put your gun down, asshole," the blue jumpsuit said carefully.

I felt blood trickling madly down my cheek.

"Heh. What are you gonna do, Jet? Kill and old friend?" My kidnapper laughed gruffly in his throat and then pointed the gun gingerly to my head.

I felt life trickling madly out of my body. I sucked in my breath. _He's going to kill me._

The door my kidnapper and I came through burst open again.

"Oh, what the hell is this?"

Just then I felt my kidnapper's head jerk to the side as he fell limp to the floor. I stood frozen.

"Another dialogue, Jet?" A man in a purple suit with wild hair came walking into view from behind me.

The blue jumpsuit dropped his hands to his sides. "Did you have to kick him in the head, Spike?"

The purple suit drew his hands behind his head and leaned his hips forward, cracking his back. "Well I didn't want to kill him. Ahh, I can already smell the 500,000 wolongs." He stared dreamily at the ceiling.

"Are you alright?"

I jumped when I realized the man in the jumpsuit was talking to me.

"Uhh, I…I'm…uh…"

"Bleeding…a lot. Here." He pulled out a handkerchief and pressed it to my wet cheek. Come on, Spike, we gotta get to the Bebop and get her cleaned up."

"What!" he yelled snapping out of his fantasy. "Ah, Jesus Christ, Jet. We can't fit another one on the ship!"

"Spike!"

"Ugh…" he growled reluctantly.

The ship turned out to be an old fishing boat. On the inside it was pretty dank and felt cramped, but then again I'm not used to being under a roof.

"Here you go," Jet handed me a cup of water.

I had felt too weak and shocked to say one word on the walk to the Bebop. I watched the water ripple as my hands quivered around the cup.

"Feeling a little better?" Jet asked with his hands on his hips.

I felt my stomach churn. _BLECH!_ I puked in my cup, on my skirt, and all over the floor.

"Ooo, that's not good," Jet's face contorted. "Let's get you to the bathroom. Hey, Spike! I need you to come clean this!"

Spike walked around the corner. "Clean what? ARGH! What the hell? You want me to clean that! First the dog and then this! Goddammit!"

His voiced trailed out as we walked out of the room. Jet showed me to the bathroom and left me in peace. I shut the door and turned around to my white face in the mirror. There was a large crimson slit across my left cheek with dry blood smeared all the way down to my chin and caked in my brown hair. A dark spot had formed on the chest of my dirty sweater. I grabbed the bottom part of my long skirt and stuck it under the faucet in the sink to try and scrub the puke off. I began to run the water when there was a knock on the door. "Yes?" my voice cracked.

"I'm gonna leave some extra clothes for you right out here," Jet's voice pushed through the door.

"Oh." I cleared my throat. "Thanks."

I returned to my skirt, and after scrubbing it fairly clean, I let it slop to the floor and grabbed the clothes outside of the door. I held in my hands a large white t-shirt and maroon shorts. These were clearly men's clothes. Nonetheless, I was grateful for something that didn't smell like vomit. I changed and hung my wet clothes on the side of the sink. I looked at myself in the mirror again. My face was regaining color and I now only had a cut on my cheek. _What the hell am I doing here? _Dressed in men's pajamas on a stranger's fishing boat. _Are they planning on letting me stay here? _I didn't want to leave the bathroom. I didn't know where to go. Would I go out and sit on the couch? Should I walk out the door? In someone else's pajamas? I felt ridiculous just then, but my thoughts were answered.

"How you doin' in there?" The familiar voice of the jumpsuit man asked.

I answered him by opening the door…in someone else's pajamas.

He smiled. "Spike's gonna be mad that you're wearing his PJs. Just flick him off if he gives you any trouble."

I accidentally giggled.

Jet led me back out to the living room where Spike was sitting on the couch with a towel stretched out on the floor beneath him. I waited nervously in the doorway.

"Spike, didn't I ask you to clean that?" Jet rounded on him.

Spike blew smoke out of his cigarette. "You can't see it anymore, now, can you?" he answered calmly.

"And I told you," Jet plucked the cigarette out of Spike's mouth and smashed it beneath his foot. "No smoking on the ship."

"Since when?" Spike protested.

"Since we have company on the ship," Jet gestured towards me in the doorway behind Spike.

_Fuck, don't look at me. I'm wearing your pajamas!_

Spike turned around and looked at me. I felt so small and immature under his gaze…in his pajamas. He stood up and sighed. "I'm going for a walk."

"Ahh, don't worry about him," Jet commented after Spike left. "Come have a seat"

I sat on the couch opposite him careful not to put my bare feet on the puke towel. I sat on my hands because I wasn't sure where to put them.

"So, I suppose you want to know what the hell is going on, right?"

I smiled instead of saying "yes."

"We're bounty hunters. I don't suppose you know what bounty hunting is?"

I nodded.

He looked surprised. "Oh…well then. The guy we were chasing was a bounty worth plenty. But that's just how we get long here in this crappy little ship. So…do you have a story?"

I told him my whole story and probably said too much, but he was very kind and listened to what I had to say.

"Well, you're welcome to say with us for a while if you'd like," he said after thinking for a minute.

My eyebrows lifted.

"But," he pointed his finger at me. "You would have to make yourself useful around here. We can't carry any freeloaders…even though we've been housing one against our will," he added to himself. "I have to go check on getting our reward. Your welcome to roam around if you'd like. By the way…I didn't catch your name."

"Julien."

Jet's eyes widened. "Julien…that's a little too close," he muttered to himself as he rounded the corner.

With that, he was gone. I looked around and shifted my jaw uneasily. _What if I took him up on his offer? I don't have anything to lose. I have everything with me right now…_ After deliberating, I decided to go outside on the deck to think.


End file.
